Sleeping In
by erika red
Summary: After a long week, Alex Eames just wants to sleep in. Pure fluff oneshot.


The nice thing about her apartment was that her heating bill was low. Otherwise, 'cramped' and 'tiny' were words commonly associated with her modest home. Her mother had referred to it as a "doll's house" once, only to revise her statement to "doll's apartment." She didn't mind. In fact, she loved her place. It was cozy, and it was hers. Growing up in a huge family gave her a certain appreciation for personal space, no matter how small.

At present, she was curled on her side in bed, a pillow wedged between her neck and shoulder. She had kicked her blankets into an pile at the bottom of the bed, but pulled up a thin fleece. Traffic and the occasional shout or laugh was the background noise to her regular soft breathing.

With a start, she sat up, and stared at her cell phone, squinting to see what time the led of her alarm clock said. It was two am. She groaned, and picked up the phone. As if on cue, it began to ring.

"Eames." She answered, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Alex." The voice on the other end was slightly strained. She couldn't tell if he'd been sleeping or drinking. Maybe both.

"Hey," She closed her eyes and lay back down. "What's up?"

"I'm drunk. And belligerent."

"Really. You don't say."

"Where are you?" There was a shout in the background, and she heard him pull the phone away to shout in return. ".. fucking cops, sorry." He laughed.

"Bobby? I'm at home. Where are _you_?"

"Outside."

"I figured that part out. Where outside?"

"No, I mean, outside your apartment."

"Oh." Bed felt so soft and warm, and she was so very tired. "Do you still have your key?"

"My drinking companion confiscated them and hailed me a cab."

"Your drinking companion doesn't know you don't drive?" Her eyes opened slightly. _More to the point, you gave the cabbie _my _address?_

"Eames."

"What?"

"It's raining. Can I come up?"

"Hold on."

She sighed, and slid out of bed. She considered just buzzing him in and unlocking the door, but decided against it. She pulled on a robe and grabbed her keys, and shut the door behind her. The elevator made its usual groans, and delivered her to the lobby. She pushed open the door for him, and he smiled, and stumbled towards her.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," He said, as she helped him stagger towards the elevator, which had decided to go all the way back up again. He sighed heavily, and she shifted to keep him upright. The elevator finally came, and she maneuvered him into it.

"Bobby, can we lean against a wall, instead of doing this inebriated sway thing?"

"Sure, sure,"

He half fell, half leaned back with a heavy thump, and took her with him, his arm draped around her shoulders. Instead of standing up right away, Alex leaned her forehead against his chest. He ran his fingers gently through her hair until the elevator stopped and opened at her floor. He felt her shoulders tense as she braced herself to move again, and pull him with her.

She unlocked her door, and he managed to get inside with some ease. She recognized the purposeful weave to his walk as he made a beeline for her bathroom.

"If you're going to be sick, do it in the kitchen sink." She called, as she bolted the door and dropped her keys in her purse. He mumbled something that sounded very drunk but not sick, which she felt was a good sign. Yawning, she pulled a blanket and a pillow from the narrow hall closet and tossed them onto the couch. Satisfied she'd done all she needed to, she padded back to bed, and promptly fell asleep.

She woke slightly to shoes dropping onto her floor, and the soft whispery sound of cloth against cloth. The bed dipped under his weight and he lay down beside her.

"Mm.." She said in way of protest. "Bobby?" She rolled over.

"Hmm?" He opened his eyes.

"I put stuff on the couch."

"Oh." He didn't move. He also didn't seem to understand what she had just told him.

"If you want."

"It's okay." He rolled towards her and shut his eyes.

"Alright." She sighed, and turned away from him, onto her side.

Alex opened her eyes. It was still dark out. She glanced at the display of the alarm clock. It was now four am. Her brain vaguely registered that her partner, Bobby Goren, was spooned behind her, one arm draped around her waist, her head resting on his shoulder. His breathing had stopped. That's what had woken her up. His chest rose slightly, and she realized he had been holding his breath.

She relaxed against him, taking a deep breath to convince him she'd fallen back asleep. He exhaled, and that's when she felt it, pressed softly against her lower back. Her eyes shot open, but she kept her breathing regular. He shifted and gently loosened his grip, so that he was no longer pressed against her. After what felt like ages, his breathing dropped into the slow deep pattern of sleep. Alex began to drift off as well, inching back against the warmth of his wide chest. His arm tightened around her again, and she pulled his hand up to her chest, covering it with her own, smaller one.

She was definitely asleep, he realized. He had woken up slightly in the gray light of pre-dawn to realize his hand was cupping her breast. To make matters worse, his erection was once more poking her in the back. _How the hell am I going to explain this when she wakes up?_

He gently pulled his arm away from her and lay on his back. The sheets made a lovely little tent over his groin but at least he wasn't jabbing her back with it anymore. His right arm was now uncomfortably trapped under her, though, and he was sure that if he moved it she would wake up. _This is about a million times worse than simply drunk dialing her. Maybe even a billion. And now I'm ungodly thirsty._

He closed his eyes and lay next to her, his arm beginning to get pins and needles. The room spun ever so slightly, and he realized he was still very drunk. _If it weren't so polluted, I think I could drink the entire river._ He grimaced at the thought.

She woke to his arm slipping out from underneath her. He stood and walked towards the hall, bumping into a few things as he went.

"Shit," He whispered as his arm whacked the knob of her bedroom door. He stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the cold tap water all the way. He splashed his face, then gulped it from his hands, until he was only slightly parched, and his stomach began to protest. He stood up and glimpsed his reflection in the mirror. His penis stood at attention, and he regarded himself warily.

As per his drunken routine, he leaned in slightly, and mussed his hair.

"You're crazy, Goren," He told himself. "but you're still a good looking guy."

He opened her medicine cabinet and found a packaged toothbrush. He raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway.

The water had been running for ten minutes. She stretched and rubbed her face.

"Good morning, Alex." She muttered, rolling over in a vain attempt to sleep a little longer. The water shut off and the shower turned on. She groaned and turned on her stomach.

The shower was long enough for him to wash his hair and lose his erection. _It would be weird and somehow very wrong to take care of it here. _He thought about baseball. And batting averages.

When he walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, his dormant member twitched to life once more. Alex had managed to fall asleep again on her stomach. The oversized shirt she slept in had ridden up past her waist, revealing her small back and the curve of her ass, barely concealed in a pair of pink boy cut underwear.

_This is many kinds of wrong, not to mention poor manners, _he silently told his aching dick. He sighed and quietly retrieved his clothes, retreating to the bathroom once more to change, and go over a few more batting averages.

He decided that cooking would be a good way to go. He couldn't very well walk out after crashing at his partner's apartment. He perused her pantry and refrigerator and decided to make scrambled eggs and toast.

Alex woke up to the smell of coffee and toast. She got up and wandered down the hall, intending to make a pit stop in the bathroom, but realized her apartment was unusually quiet.

"Bobby?"

She pulled her hair back, and padded into the kitchen. A plate of buttered toast sat on the counter, and the coffee maker was brewing merrily.

"He made toast and split?"

She was standing in the kitchen looking slightly puzzled when he walked back in, a plastic bag in his hand. The curves of her breasts were apparent under the t-shirt. She looked beautiful like that, her hair a little messy, not completely dressed... _she has great legs.._

"Hey, your eggs were two months expired, and you were out of orange juice."

"Oh... thanks. You didn't have to.."

"Yeah I did, Alex."

"Bobby, come on," She shrugged off his serious tone and smiled slightly.

"Hey, I'm not the easiest house guest." He averted his gaze and began emptying the contents of his shopping bag onto the counter.

"So what, I was just supposed to let you wander around unchecked in New York City? That's highly unethical, Bobby, those people are civilians. I'm a professional."

"Yeah, laugh it up. How do you want your eggs?"

"You're cooking?"

"Damn right."

"Bobby..." She smiled, "You can't cook."

"For you?" He paused, but she punched him lightly in the arm.

"Scrambled. I'm gonna get a shower and put some clothes on. Try not to set my apartment on fire, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'd better wash up for this meal."

"Oh ho, partner." He heard her say as she disappeared down the hall.

When she came back out, her hair was damp, and she was wearing a pair of yoga pants with a long fitted t-shirt. He kept noticing her breasts. She smiled up at him, and looked at the spread.

"Detective Goren... you have outdone yourself."

"You think so?"

"I'm impressed."

"Here," He handed her a champagne glass of orange juice.

"Wow, you weren't kidding, should I go put on a dress?"

He laughed as she took a sip, and looked up at him.

"You made mimosas?"

"It's Saturday. I know you said yesterday you wanted to just lie in bed," He reminded her of her heartfelt testament of exhaustion the day before, "but I figured after shooting that plan to hell, I could make up for it by making you a nice breakfast."

"You're too good to me, Goren. You keep this up, and I'm going to get used to it."

He set their plates down on the little kitchen table, and brought the pitcher of orange juice and champagne over as well.

"Seriously, Bobby, this is wonderful." She smiled, and dug in.

"Did you have any plans for today?"

"No.. like I said. Sleeping. Quite the wild life I lead, I know."

"Do you wanna hang out for a little bit? Maybe catch a movie?" He glanced up at her.

"You know, I've been wanting to see that Johnny Cash movie, Walk the Line."

"It's gotten great reviews."

The plates were soaking in the sink, and the pitcher was nearly gone.

"Want the last bit?" Alex held up the pitcher.

"Nah, you take it."

They had migrated into the living room, and the television provided a white noise for them to talk over.

"You really drank a lot of that, Eames."

"Yeah, I guess I did," She grinned.

"For a woman your size.. I'm kind of impressed."

"Oh come on, Bobby. It's champagne."

"Still," He shrugged.

They were sitting on her couch, a blanket spread over them -- the self same blanket she had laid out the night before. Every so often, he would tug a big of it further towards him, until eventually, she was left with hardly a corner.

"You are a serious blanket hog, buddy."

"Says you." He pulled the rest of it from her, and she reached over him to get it, laughing as he pushed her gently and ineffectively away. His grip on the blanket wasn't gentle, though, and she tugged without success. As she set her shoulders to give it a good yank, he let go, and she wound up on her back on the couch, with him over her.

"Mean!" She laughed.

He grinned and pushed the blanket aside. She looked up at him, still smiling, but no longer laughing. His warm hand slid along her side, and her arms wound over his shoulders. He leaned closer, her hair had that sweet honey smell it always had, but stronger, because it was still a bit damp. He held himself just above her, resting his weight on his elbow to keep from crushing her. His other hand paused and rested at her hip. His lips softly touched hers.

She leaned up, into his kiss, her lips parting to his. He slid his arm under her back to support her. Her leg lifted, bending around his waist, and he nudged her other leg with his knee so that he was between them. Her legs pulled him closer, and she gasped at his hardness pressing into her. He paused then, and she slowly opened her eyes.

"Alex,"

"Bobby."

"We have a problem."

"Oh?"

"You're still wearing _these, _and this couch is a bit cramped."

"What do you think we should do about it?"

She grinned as he lifted her up easily. He turned so that she was in his lap, wrapped around him. He pushed her hair back, and she kissed his neck. He groaned, thrusting slightly against her, and she made an impossibly sexy muffled sound in return.

"You have to .. stop that for a second so I can get up."

"Mmm.."

"Alex.."

"If you insist, Detective."

She pulled away from him, and began unbuttoning his shirt. He watched her for a moment, then lifted her up. She giggled, and he grunted, pushing her against the living room wall to kiss her again. She twined her arms around his neck, and he kicked the bedroom door shut behind them.

_Fin. _


End file.
